


A Kiss A Day

by Tiikeria



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake AH Crew, Female Jack, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Other, Threesome - M/M/M, mentions of sexual situations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiikeria/pseuds/Tiikeria
Summary: There are all types of kisses in a relationship, especially one as chaotic and loving as theirs. 30 different kisses, 30 different days, 3 men, 1 relationship.





	1. Good Morning Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was hardly the first time the three had greeted a morning together, but the experience never seemed to grow old. The feeling of waking up next to someone they loved, seeing their sleepy smiles first thing, and being able to pull them closer, just for a bit, before facing the world outside their warm, blanket covered world was a feeling the largest of the three had never experienced until these two wormed their way into his life and his previously fiercely guarded heart.

Soft orange and yellow light streamed in the large windows on the east side of the quiet bedroom, painting the white walls and minimal furnishings in a warm morning glow. The steadily rising sun didn’t seem to disturb any of the sleeping occupants of the large bed, their limbs comfortably tangled together, breathing soft, bodies warm. 

Furthest from the window slept the largest of the three, his long sandy hair spread across the dark pillow cradling his head, his bare shoulders and arm criss-crossed with silvery scars belying his violent past, contrary to the gentle hold he had on the other two sharing the bed with him that morning.

Next to him, curled close to the first man’s chest, was the thinnest of the three, his lithe body pressed against the broader one, his long leg twisted around the thigh of the bigger man, one arm tucked under his head comfortably, the other resting against the arm of the third man curled behind them, their fingers joining together on the small man’s bare belly. The larger man shifted, the first movement of the morning, pressing his nose into the small man’s wild hair.

The third shifted right after, pressing his broad body closer to the back of the smaller one, his forehead pressed to his neck, breathing still so very soft and even. He had one of his own legs resting on the lithe man’s free leg. His bright, blood red hair was mussed with sleep and from having one too many hands card though the short strands the night before.

This was hardly the first time the three had greeted a morning together, but the experience never seemed to grow old. The feeling of waking up next to someone they loved, seeing their sleepy smiles first thing, and being able to pull them closer, just for a bit, before facing the world outside their warm, blanket covered world was a feeling the largest of the three had never experienced until these two wormed their way into his life and his previously fiercely guarded heart. 

He was always the first to wake, blue eyes blinking slowly open, squinting against the rising sun before falling on the sleeping men beside him and softening, fond smile curling his lips upward. Slowly he began to shift again, moving an arm to gently fix the wild locks of the middle man before doing the same to the man furthest from him. This was his morning routine, one that had taken a while to get used to, but one that he coveted every chance he received. Watching his lovers sleep, when their faces weren’t pinched with stress or worry or concentration, knowing he was the only one allowed to see them like this, filled him with a warm sense of pride and joy. 

The second to be roused from his slumber was the man in the middle, a soft, content hum being the first indication, followed by a shift, his face nuzzling into the watching man’s chest a bit more before tilting up, bleary eyed. The first let out a soft chuckle, warm and fond, before gently kissing his sleepy lover’s nose, receiving a half-awake smile for his troubles. 

“Mornin’, Love,” the middle man murmured, accent thick on his tongue, as it always was first thing in the morning. He pressed his face back into his larger lover’s chest, eager to hide from the sun for just a bit longer if it meant staying cuddled up like he was.

Another gentle kiss was placed on the smaller man, this time on the top of his head, a rumbling voice softly responding, a tiny hint of a southern accent making its way into his speech, “Good morning, Gavin.”

Gavin sighed happily, perfectly content to stay exactly where he was for the rest of the day, as long as the other two were staying with him. He knew they wouldn’t; the larger man would eventually get restless, starting with tapping his fingers, then progressing to shaking his leg, then, finally, the other two would give up on the cause of getting him to lay still, letting him up to wander out in search of coffee and breakfast. 

But, until then, he was going to stay right where he was. 

At least, until he heard another soft chuckle from the man he was cuddled into. He peeked back up at the kind, fond smile he loved more than anything and raised an eyebrow, silently questioning just what was amusing. Blue eyes shone in soft amusement as he replied to the silent question, “You two are adorable when you’re sleepy.”

Gavin made a quiet noise of protest, cheeks warm, and huffed, “Ryan!”

Ryan laughed, soft enough to hopefully not disturb his still sleeping lover, but loud enough that Gavin felt the rumble against his cheek, “It’s the truth! You two are.”

Gavin was going to reply, but, instead, was interrupted by a weak slap on his chest, followed by another flailing slap to Ryan’s chest. It seemed they had disturbed the final piece of their puzzle, and he wasn’t too thrilled about it, to be honest. Gavin smiled up at Ryan before rolling over in their arms, Ryan contentedly fitting himself against Gavin’s back in a smooth practiced movement. Their third whined and buried his face in Gavin’s bare chest, still not willing to face the sun just yet, “You two need to shut it. I’m trying to get my beauty sleep, damnit.”

“Aww, J!” Gavin cooed playfully, carding his fingers through the red hair tickling his arm, “You don’t need more beauty sleep! You’re already beautiful, right, Ryan?”

“Right,” Ryan hummed in agreement, fingers brushing along Jeremy’s arm, the youngest finally peeking up, still looking unimpressed, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed his joy at the complements from his two boyfriends.

“Still, you’re loud and I was sleeping,” Jeremy huffed, giving them a playful pout, his fingers moving to stroke along Ryan’s side, resting solidly on Gavin’s hip, “I was even having an awesome dream.”

“Jeremy, was it about us, Jeremy?” Gavin giggled, kissing Jeremy’s nose, giggling again when Jeremy’s nose scrunched in response.

“Yup, and I was taller than Ryan and it was _awesome_.”

Ryan and Gavin both laughed, pulling their short lover closer into the warm cuddles, bodies pressed flush against each other, bare skin against bare skin, Jeremy pretending to be offended by their laughter, but, in reality, finding it infectious as he always did, their laughs so different from each other: Ryan’s so deep and almost breathy; Gavin’s so squeaky and high and joyful. God, he loved these two, even if they did wake him from a great dream, damnit.

Together, they settled into a comfortable silence, punctuated with gentle nuzzles and soft kisses to bare skin, all three slowly coming to terms with greeting the morning, the presence of the others making it much easier to face the dawn. 

Then came the next part of slowly waking, one of their favorite parts, Gavin initiating it almost every morning, starting first with the man in front of him, fingers gently nudging Jeremy’s chin up with a loving smile, the smaller man returning it eagerly as his own hand moved to cup Gavin’s cheek softly. Gavin pressed their lips together, kiss slow and affectionate and warm. Gavin only pulling back when he felt Ryan press gentle kisses to his neck, obviously eager for his turn, Gavin turning his head with a soft laugh, “I know, I know, Love. You want your good morning kisses, too.”

Ryan hummed happily as his lips connected with Gavin’s, hand settling on the slender man’s hip, thumb rubbing circles into the soft skin, his kiss just as loving and warm, but undercut with a slowly building passion Gavin knew so well. He smiled into Ryan’s lips, knowing exactly where their morning was going, softly chuckling when Ryan finally pulled back, both a bit breathless, “J, I think someone’s feeling a bit cheeky this morning.”

“Oh?” Jeremy smirked, propping himself up as Ryan shifted Gavin to his back, Gavin’s arms still wrapped gently around the two men above him. He watched, smile still curling his lips as Ryan tugged Jeremy closer, eager to close the gap between the two, Gavin’s long fingers carding though their hair as they kissed each other good morning. And, at the rate they were going, it was about to be a _very_ good morning.

Especially when Ryan shifted to press his lower half to Gavin’s thigh. Oh, yeah, _definitely_ a good morning.

With warm, deep kisses and loud, breathy moans they would spend the early morning the best way they knew how: with wandering hands and pleasurable touches and rhythmic movements designed to pull the most delicious sounds from their lovers’ lips. And, as the cries left their throats, slick with sweat, definitely stickier than when they awoke, they would collapse together again, sharing yet another round of loving and gentle morning kisses.

These were special mornings, mornings where they didn’t have pressing engagements causing them to leave their shared bed much earlier than they desired. When thoughts of work and meetings and their fellow crew members were far from their minds, instead replaced with thoughts of the love and happiness they shared together, and how amazing it felt to wake up next to not just one person they loved, but two, especially after so long of waking up to cold beds and loneliness.

If anyone asked them to define happiness, this would be it. A morning exactly like this one, with orange sunlight slowly turning clear as it streamed through the window, illuminating their bare bodies in bright, almost heavenly, light, breath slowly regulating, hands still wandering slowly, memorizing the planes and valleys and hills, the scars and the ink, not wanting to miss a single inch of each other, desperate to fit in as much love as they were capable of in the smallest amount of time they were given.

And, following a shower full of equal parts cleaning and dirtying again, they would emerge from their quiet bedroom haven to face the day, fingers tangled together, content and loving smiles on their lips, ones their crew mates loved to tease them for, not that they could find it in themselves to care when they knew that, truly, their friends, their family, couldn’t be happier for the trio for finding the love they had always craved, but were always too scared to let themselves find before.

Together, they would sit at the dining table, plates piled with homemade food courtesy of their apron-clad boss, playfully stealing bites from each other’s plates amid indignation and laughter and rolled eyes and joking gags. But they were happy, they were content. Their morning started out the way they coveted more than anything.

It started with cuddles and love.

It started with good morning kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o! Guess who started NaNo 5 days late? |D Anyway, here is part 1 of 30 based on a list of kiss prompts. Enjoy, my friends~! Comments and messages are loved. <3


	2. Forehead Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He would learn at such a young age that it was better to be cold, detached, and emotionless than show the barest hint of what he felt deep down. He bottled up his emotions, keeping them locked away under cool gazes and steely smirks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for mentions of abuse and for panic attacks/mental breakdowns.

The habit had formed long before he ever joined the crew, long before the crew was even a crew, long before James Haywood would ever pick up a gun and shoot a man point blank in cold blood. It started in rural Georgia, with a father who preached hyper masculinity like the pastor in their small church preached the Bible every Sunday. Who would backhand a crying child before he would offer comfort, words that would stain his son’s heart spit from his lips, “Real men don’t fucking cry, James. Cut that shit out and stop being a fucking pussy.”

He would learn at such a young age that it was better to be cold, detached, and emotionless than show the barest hint of what he felt deep down. He bottled up his emotions, keeping them locked away under cool gazes and steely smirks. 

But like anything put under immense pressure for long periods of time, that bottle would burst, and all the pent up sadness, fear, rage, regret, pain, anything he kept close to his chest and away from the world’s scrutinizing gaze would finally be released in a torrent of uncontrollable emotion that he could only play witness to. 

It was this pressure that sent him into his first fight; it was this pressure that caused him to destroy anything he could get his hands on in the old, rickety barn; and it was this pressure that finally drove him to pull the trigger and release himself from the chains of abuse.

But habits are hard to break, especially habits built in the name of self-preservation against a person who tormented him his entire young life. A person he would see time and time again, wearing different faces, but always the same vile venom spewing from their lips. He continued to bottle, to tamp down any semblance of emotion, a feat made much easier under a mask and behind a gun.

But then they happened. Six individuals so similar, yet so unlike himself that he couldn’t help but be drawn in, couldn’t help but take the hand being offered to him and clinging to it like a drowning man clung to a life preserver. Maybe he had been a drowning man; drowning in a dark ocean of his deepest hidden emotions.

Despite finally finding a home, finally finding people who accepted him, and, in two remarkable cases, _loved_ him, he found himself wanting nothing more than to break the cycle of hiding and violently releasing he had become accustomed to through the years, since his youth in rural Georgia to his work in gritty Los Santos. He wanted to change. For them. 

He allowed himself to show small signs at first, genuine smiles, panicked worry when one of his boys were hurt, gentle affection that drew delighted and surprised smiles from the one receiving. Then slowly started letting them see deeper: his fear after a nightmare, his remorse at what he had become, his sadness at the childhood he was never allowed to have. He told them stories, shared with them his darkest parts. And, yet, they still loved him. They still held him, telling him that, sometimes, you have to do things that you never wanted to do, but that it didn’t make him any less of a human. That he wasn’t a monster that he constantly felt gnawing at his very being. 

But, yet, he kept one thing quiet: he never wanted them to see him at his absolute worst, when it would all eventually come crumbling down and the pressure would become too much for him to hold back any longer. He didn’t want them to see him at his weakest, when only destruction and pain could soothe the ache.

And he went much longer than before between these instances, and he credited his sweet, supportive lovers for easing it all. But they couldn’t ease everything, not when he was still so guarded, afraid of revealing too much and losing the best thing to ever happen to him. Because he knew, everyone had a line of what they were willing to deal with, even for love, and he was so scared of finding that line, of crossing it without knowing, and ending up alone again. He couldn’t handle being alone again. Not anymore.

So, when he felt it, felt the dam beginning to crumble and break against the flow trying so desperately to break free, he ran. He ran without a word, in the middle of the night, desperate to keep himself from harming the only real family he ever had. Because, in his release, control was not something he had a firm grasp on, and he would never forgive himself if he ever hurt a member of the crew.

He ran to a garage he kept full of spare parts and dusty vehicles either so damaged they would never run again, or ones he kept “just in case” when he knew he would never use them even if the aforementioned case did appear. By the time he stepped into the musty, grungy room he was shaking, trying so hard to keep it at bay but knowing it wouldn’t help, that it would happen whether he wanted it to or not.

But, in a last ditch form of desperation, he curled in on himself against the cold concrete wall, buried his head in his hands, fingers pulling roughly at his hair, strands falling from the band that kept them back. He didn’t want to give in. He was doing so well, he didn’t want to feel like this anymore. He just wanted to be home, curled between his boys, sleeping better then than he ever had in the past. But, no, he was here, trying his hardest to stop himself from destroying like he so desperately wanted to. Needed to.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, fighting the losing battle against his demons as he always did. The first casualty was an old bike, mangled from a wreck that had left him with a broken collarbone and road rash to the extreme. It landed against the wall with a deafening crash and he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. Metal crashed against the floors and walls, glass shattered by tools and scrap, his hands bloodied on sharp edges, but he didn’t feel it. All he felt was his heart, beating hard enough that it was trying to jump out of his chest; all he felt was the whirlwind of erratic emotions dizzying him as he tossed another wrench through a windshield.

All he felt was the screams that ripped themselves from his throat: screams of rage, screams of despair, screams of pain. All he felt were the hot tears spilling down his cheeks as he did the only thing he could: destroy.

His breathing was heavy and broken when he finally fell to his knees on the cracked concrete, blood from his palms staining the gray a dark red, hair falling from its pathetic tie to frame his face as the tears continued to roll down his face, leaving blotchy trails on his skin. It was then he heard it: footsteps, hesitant and gentle, slowly approaching, and he found himself jerking away, moving away, trying to find a place where he could hide from the person disturbing his piece, like a wounded, frightened animal.

A soft, startled voice rang out in the dim light, the person stopping, kneeling some six or so feet in front of him, where his back had finally hit a workbench, “Ryan. Ryan, Love, calm down. It’s just me, it’s just Gavin. You’re safe, I promise.”

Some part of him was screaming for him to run again, that Gavin didn’t want to see the mess he was, that Gavin didn’t deserve to _deal_ with the mess he was. But, yet, another part of him just wanted to reach out, to ask for the comfort his raw emotions so desperately desired. Fear is what held him back, fear of being rejected, of being told what he had always been told, that he needed to get a grip on himself, that he was being childish, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Deep down, he knew Gavin would never say those words to him, but these moments always made it hard to judge what was true and what was his own dark fear. 

Gavin was still there, though, watching him, gaze almost…sad? He didn’t understand why Gavin would be sad about finding him like this. Angry, yes. Afraid, yes. Sad? No, not at all. Yet, there he was, kneeling far enough away that Ryan wasn’t crowded, but close enough that he was still reminded of Gavin’s presence. Ryan’s breath, still so labored, was the loudest thing in the room as they watched each other. At least it was, until Gavin spoke, a gentle, soothing edge to his words.

“Ryan, you need to take deep breaths,” Gavin’s voice left no room for argument, like a parent softly, yet firmly, directing a child. Ryan wondered if it was something Gavin had learned from Jack, “You’re going to hyperventilate, Ryan. Just breathe. Deep breath in, hold it…and out. Good. Do it again, yeah?”

They sat there, Gavin murmuring instructions that Ryan followed without hesitation, the shaking in his limbs slowly subsiding, the overwhelming feeling of so many emotions battling for dominance seeping from his body, leaving him drained, emotionally and physically exhausted. He didn’t fight when Gavin inched closer, just choosing to watch him wearily, still taking deep breaths, his heart rate slowly returning to a semblance of normal. He didn’t flinch when Gavin reached out and placed a hand on his knee, which Gavin seemed to take as a good sign, finally closing the distance and settling beside Ryan, wrapping one arm lightly around his shoulders, as if testing the boundaries.

But Ryan just sagged into him, letting Gavin help support his weight, Gavin resting his cheek on top of Ryan’s head as he buried his face into Gavin’s neck, breathing in the familiar scent he could never accurately describe but felt so much like home. Gavin held him, quiet and loving, carding a hand through his hair, pulling the tie from the last few strands it still held on to; Ryan could only close his eyes, soaking in the comfort while he could, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And he was sure it was about to drop when Gavin finally spoke again, “Ryan, what happened? Why did you come out here without telling us, Love? We were worried when we woke up and you were gone and no one knew where you were. Jeremy worked himself into a panic.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said, the only reply he could offer, voice a tired croak, “I’m sorry.”

Gavin pulled him closer, Ryan very nearly in his lap, finally allowing his fingers to curl into Gavin’s button down shirt, heedless of the slowly drying blood still on his palms, clinging to his lover in a way he never had before, “Don’t be sorry, Ry. It’s not your fault. Just tell us next time, yeah? So we can be here, and make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“You’re…you’re not mad? That I lost control?” Ryan wanted to cry as he took in the lovingly accepting look he was receiving from Gavin, the man shaking his head with a sad smile.

“No, of course not. Ryan, everyone is entitled to a breakdown now and then. Especially you; I know you think you’re brilliant at hiding how much you bottle everything up, but J and I see it. We can see when you’re holding back and when you’re actively letting us in. And I know it’s hard to open up to someone after years of keeping it all to yourself,” Gavin rubbed his back as Ryan curled closer, Ryan’s face hidden under his chin, “We just want you to know that you’re not alone anymore, Ry. That you don’t have to hide with us, because, no matter what, we love you. Nothing can change that.”

Ryan couldn’t even bother to hold back the tears anymore, the warm drops splashing against Gavin’s soft skin. Because now he knew that what happened to him when that bottle burst wasn’t something that would drive them away. A breakdown. He had breakdowns, and it felt so very fitting to call them that when they broke him so completely down every time. But, for the first time, he had someone there, willing to help build him back up again, so he didn’t have to face it alone.

Together they sat, Gavin rubbing his back and murmuring soothing words into Ryan’s ear, offering the comfort he had craved for so many years, and feeling Gavin’s lips so gently pressing against his forehead, a simple kiss, but it meant so much more for a child from Georgia who had only wanted to be loved.

And now, as a man in Los Santos, Gavin pressing more kisses to his forehead, so willing to show him the love he lacked before, he finally felt like it was going to be okay, that _he_ was going to be okay. He still had a long road to travel before he could let them in completely, but it was a start. It was promising a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter two! Hope you guys enjoyed it, even though this one focused more on Ryan than the actual relationship; I know I enjoyed writing it. The next one should be a bit more lighthearted, and with more silly boys. <3


	3. Drunk/Sloppy Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The parties the Fake AH Crew held in their Vinewood penthouse were legendary in Los Santos, and none more spectacular and chaotically grandiose than the annual Christmas party.

The parties the Fake AH Crew held in their Vinewood penthouse were legendary in Los Santos, and none more spectacular and chaotically grandiose than the annual Christmas party. It was considered an honor in the city’s criminal underground to be invited to the Christmas party; it was a sign that you were high up on the Fake’s list of allies and friends, and it was definitely a spot you had to earn. Of course, there were some whose spot would never waver: the rest of the Founding Fathers of the Cockbites were a great example of this, no matter how fucking annoying Joel got with his debates on the stock market and the reliability of investing in gold, or how many times Gus or Burnie would get shitfaced and claim a new title — asking Gus about being the Cheese Master still earned you a glare; Burnie just laughs about the Cat Bug incident now.

The Christmas party was always lively and loud and full of good cheer, laughter and off key singing of carols filling the Penthouse’s main gathering areas, a mix of crews, corrupt politicians and city officials, white-collar criminals, and even a few of their favorite suppliers and freelancers. A quick scan of the crowd saw some of the members of Fakehaus playfully harassing Craig from GangAttack; Griffon, their favorite weapons supplier and all around badass, chatting with Jack and comparing their newest tattoos; it seemed like Michael and Ray were attempting to hustle some of their white-collar allies in a game of poker with the help of Trevor and Andy, with Matt watching the scheme unfold.

But, it was over by Burnie and Geoff that Ryan finally found the two he had been looking for since they got separated an hour and a half before. Ryan wasn’t much of a partier; he wasn’t fond of loud noises for long periods of time, and he definitely wasn’t a fan of social interaction, especially when it was people he wasn’t all too fond of, anyway. He would much rather be in his room right about then, curled up with a book and two very cuddly boyfriends playfully fighting over who got to rest on Ryan’s chest the most. But, instead, he was weaving his way through the crowd, Diet E-Cola in hand, trying to return to his wayward, and possibly drunk, lovers.

He heard Gavin’s giggle, followed by Jeremy’s giggle, a few feet from them. Make that confirmed drunk. Very drunk. And the looks he was receiving from the two criminal ringleaders could only be described as helpless. Oh, his night was about to get very interesting.

Giving Burnie and Geoff a smile, he wrapped his arms around Gavin and Jeremy’s waists, Gavin’s arms instantly transferring from Jeremy’s neck to Ryan’s, his green eyes lighting up in joy at the arrival of his other boyfriend.

“Ryan!” Gavin giggled, Jeremy happily wrapping his arms around Ryan’s waist and burying himself into Ryan’s sweater, “Lovely Ryan. Lovely, sweet Ryan.”

“I see you’ve been keeping Burnie and Geoff company,” Ryan chuckled, unfazed by the glares he was receiving from the aforementioned men, “I’d hate to tear you away from what I’m sure was wonderful conversation.”

“It was mostly about ‘Lovely Ryan’, actually,” Geoff said, smirking when Ryan’s ears turned a bit pink in embarrassment, “And how much they love their ‘Lovely Ryan.’”

“Aww,” Ryan smiled shyly, squeezing his boys closer, receiving happy responses in return, “Did you two miss me the whole hour and a half I wasn’t with you?”

“Mhmm,” Jeremy hummed and nodded into his side, Gavin echoing the reply and adding on, “We always miss you when you’re not around, you silly sausage.”

As much as he loved the sentiment, Geoff and Burnie looked like they had struck a goldmine in terms of material to tease Ryan with in the future when he didn't have two very drunk boyfriends doing very convincing octopus impersonations, and, really, that wasn’t exactly what he had in mind as a Christmas present to his boss. 

Deciding it was a great time to escape with at least a shred of his dignity intact, Ryan coaxed the two into movement, “Come on, let’s get you somewhere quiet. And without alcohol, preferably.”

“See ya, Lovely Ryan,” Burnie cooed, Ryan shooting him an unimpressed glare that the elder man could only laugh at.

Ryan steered his two inebriated boyfriends away from the main living area and down the hallway to the room they affectionately referred to as the library, if only for the massive bookshelves on the far wall that were crammed with all sorts of reading material, from classical fiction, to books on explosives. It also served as a more quiet alternative to the living room, often times the location for more casual planning sessions.

Gently, he sat the two of them down on the wonderfully plush couch, offering them the bottles of water he had grabbed from the buffet table as they passed, only to be pulled down with them and wrapped back up in their arms. Here in the quiet, the noise of the party dulled, he allowed himself to close his eyes and bask in the warmth and affection Gavin and Jeremy were happily offering. This was exactly how he wanted to spend a chilly Los Santos night: wrapped up in the arms of the two men he loved the most.

Of course, it wasn’t long before he started feeling the slow press of lips on his neck, a hand slowly moving along his chest as a hand from the other side slid gently along his thigh. He knew exactly what his boys wanted, could feel the warmth of the bodies pressing against him, and he let his head fall back, allowing Gavin free reign of his neck, Jeremy nuzzling along his jaw, teeth nipping the skin, Ryan letting out a soft sigh of contentment passing through his lips.

He knew, though, that he couldn’t let it go too far. Not when they were both as drunk as they were, and not fully able to tell him the good from the bad. Kissing was okay, though. Kissing was great. So was cuddling. But if Jeremy’s hand went any higher, which it definitely was, he was going to have to stop them from getting any closer to their drunken goal. 

Gently, Ryan took Jeremy’s hand, lifting it from his thigh, smiling as Jeremy made a noise of protest that made Gavin stop to blink slowly at him then at their hands, and finally looking up at Ryan.

Ryan, smile still on his face, leaned down to press his lips to Jeremy’s, the smaller man instantly giving up control to him, Ryan leading the kiss into being slow and deep; he could taste the eggnog and the whiskey that Jeremy had been drinking before, just a hint now, but still present. Jeremy’s kiss in return was sloppy, as he fully expected, but just as wonderful as it always was to kiss his lovers. 

He chuckled against Jeremy’s lips as he heard Gavin let out a whine and nuzzle his nose into his neck. It seemed that his other boyfriend was feeling left out and that would not do. Gently, he separated himself from Jeremy with one last quick peck, the smaller man giving him a content smile, before he turned to Gavin, tilting his head up as he had done with Jeremy and pressing their lips together.

Where Jeremy was fully content to let Ryan control the kiss, Gavin liked to test him, see where the limits were and how long it would take for Ryan to gain control. It was a game for them, one they played almost every day and they never tired of playing. Gavin’s kisses now were heated, almost needy, his lips tasting more heavily of whiskey than Jeremy’s had been. Ryan in return forced him to slow, nipping Gavin’s lip as a warning as he kissed him deeper. Jeremy’s other hand had moved to stroke across his belly, one hand still tangled in his. Ryan’s other hand slipped into Gavin’s hair, fingers curling in a gentle grip that had Gavin softly sighing into his mouth. 

Finally, he pulled back just a bit, resting his forehead against Gavin’s as they both worked on catching their breath. He could feel Jeremy’s breath on his neck, slow and steady, seeming to have given up on his previous goal, now just content to cuddle up to Ryan. Gavin wasn’t as easily swayed, pressing kisses to Ryan’s jaw, eyes closed and his movements a bit sluggish. He blinked blearily as Ryan turned his head again, pressing a kiss to his nose, smiling as Gavin scrunched it in return.

“I know what you two want,” Ryan said, voice low, not wanting to break the soothing blanket of quiet that had descended on them, “But not tonight.”

Gavin let out another soft whine, his voice just as quiet as Ryan’s, “Ryan, why not? We want to love you and make you feel good.”

Ryan pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s forehead as the youngest man curled ever closer, almost half in his lap; Ryan turned to give Gavin a matching kiss to his forehead, pulling him closer, letting Gavin cuddle up to his chest, “Because you’ve both been drinking, and I can’t be sure if what you say you want is actually alright. I want to be sure; I don’t want to end up hurting either one of you.”

Gavin opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by Ryan’s finger pressed against his lips, “However, I’m not opposed to some more kisses.”

He had no idea how long he and Gavin slowly and deeply kissed, his hand moving from Gavin’s hair, down his spine, and back up in a relaxing rhythm; his other arm was trapped around Jeremy, who had finally dozed off tucked between Ryan and the back of the couch when Ryan had been gently pushed back to lay down, Gavin eagerly covering his broader body with his own lithe one. Gavin’s hands slowly roamed around his chest and neck, occasionally drifting up to cup his cheek. At some point, Ryan’s hair had been pulled loose from the elastic holding it back and now spread messily across the throw pillow his head was resting on. 

Gavin’s kisses were starting to trail off, to become sleepier and messier, moving from Ryan’s reddened lips down his jaw before finally tucking his head under Ryan’s chin. Ryan held them both close, warm and content and happy. He saw one of Gavin’s arms stretch out to rest against Jeremy’s side, and he resigned himself to being a pillow for the night (as if he was upset by that revelation).

Pressing final kisses to the top of both of their heads, he relaxed into the softness of the couch, closing his own eyes as he felt Gavin’s breathing ease into a steady, deep rhythm, murmuring into the quiet, “I love you two. I love you both so much.”

Both curled closer, as it they heard him and understand his words, and he managed to doze off with a small smile turning his lips.

And if Jack found them later, tangled together on the couch, and took the liberty of leaving out a couple bottles of water and some aspirin before covering them with a blanket, leaving them to rest, well, she wasn’t going to say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another kiss down. Thanks to all of you who have kudosed and commented; I'm happy to know I'm not the only one enjoying this! <333 And I'm glad so many of you are reading some of my other stuff, too. If you want, you can find all my fics, including things not posted here, at http://tiikeria.tumblr.com/tagged/my-fic
> 
> <333


	4. Awkward Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They weren’t strangers to awkward kisses. Whether it was just a strange angle — like the time Jeremy tried to kiss Ryan over Ryan’s shoulder, but it required Jeremy to be on his tip-toes and Ryan to nearly do a back bend — or a rather inconvenient moment — like the time Geoff walked in on Ryan pinning Gavin to a wall with his lips, thigh pressed between Gavin’s legs — they had their fair share.

They weren’t strangers to awkward kisses. Whether it was just a strange angle — like the time Jeremy tried to kiss Ryan over Ryan’s shoulder, but it required Jeremy to be on his tip-toes and Ryan to nearly do a back bend — or a rather inconvenient moment — like the time Geoff walked in on Ryan pinning Gavin to a wall with his lips, thigh pressed between Gavin’s legs — they had their fair share.

Then, sometimes, they brought it upon themselves. Especially when one of them was the biggest nerd to ever exist masquerading as a badass mercenary.

And said pseudo-badass was currently hanging upside down from a fire escape, in full heist gear, blood splattered across his trademark jacket. Asking them to kiss him. Not just kiss him, though, oh no, it wasn’t that simple. Not with Ryan.

“Come on! Spiderman kiss me!”

Of course they had to end up with the biggest nerd in Los Santos. 

It was a good thing they loved him.

“Ryan!” Gavin huffed, biting back a laugh at how ridiculous Ryan looked hanging by his knees off a fire escape, wearing that stupid mask that he _knew_ Ryan was grinning under, “We should be more concerned with hiding from the damned cops, Ryan!”

“We are hidden!” Ryan replied, knowing that Gavin couldn’t deny that, “So I’m just offering an activity to pass the time until Los Santos’ finest give up looking for us like they always do.”

Jeremy shook his head, not bothering to hide his fondly exasperated smile, “You’re a piece of work, Ryan.”

Ryan laughed, swinging a bit on the metal, “Yet you love me anyway. And to prove it, you should Spiderman me.”

Gavin groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. Ryan wasn’t about to give up on this, not until at least one of them gave him exactly what he wanted. And it seemed like the others, connected via their earpieces, were just as eager for Ryan to get his upside down kiss, if just to shut him up.

“For the love of God, just kiss the asshole,” Geoff’s annoyed voice crackled to life in their ears, the annoyance more for show than anything, “Or I’m going to come over there and kiss him myself just to shut him the fuck up.”

“Wow, Geoff,” Ryan laughed, “I didn’t know you liked me that much. Jack, I think your man is coming on to me.”

“You can have him,” came Jack’s amused deadpan, followed by Geoff’s offended sputter and Michael and Ray’s “Get rekt, Geoff!” and “RIP” respectively.

“Well, since my boyfriends won’t kiss me, I might take you up on that offer,” Ryan’s voice had become pouty, a sure sign that he was feeling quite playful. And a playful Ryan was not an easily swayed Ryan.

Gavin sighed, “Fine, you big baby. I’ll bloody kiss you.”

He stepped up close, and he could see the happiness shining in Ryan’s eyes. That made it worth it. Just seeing Ryan so happy about something so silly made it worth it.

With a smile, he tugged Ryan’s mask back, uncovering his lips, and with a hand on Ryan’s cheek he leaned in to press their lips together. The first try, he bumped his nose against Ryan’s chin, both of them giggling. The second try, he tilted his head a bit, the angle still not quite right, but better. The third try, they both seemed to figure it out as well as they could, their heads tilted lightly, Gavin’s nose still brushing Ryan’s skin. He could hear Jeremy laughing softly close by and Gavin pulled back, seeing Ryan’s smile and bumping him with his nose again.

“That was probably the most awkwardly angled kiss I’ve ever had. I don’t know how that bird that played Spiderman’s girlfriend didn’t laugh every bloody take,” Gavin playfully huffed, Ryan laughing, still upside down, looking even more ridiculous now that half of his mask was off.

“You’re not wrong, Gavin,” he agreed, reaching out and running a hand through Gavin’s meticulously styled hair, earning him a soft, content sigh, “But, we had to test it. For science.”

They heard the rest of the crew laugh over the earpieces, Michael’s amused “Jesus Christ” filtering though.

“I would say you should test it with two subjects,” Jeremy said thoughtfully, feigning innocence, “But I’m short as shit and you’re too damn high up there.”

Ryan started to shift, shimmying lower, “I can fix tha-“

The thud of Ryan slipping off the metal and hitting the ground echoed through the earpieces, as did Ryan’s groan.

There was a beat of silence before the uproarious laugher started.

“Please,” Michael managed, “Please fucking tell me he fell.”

Gavin was stifling giggles as he looked down at Ryan, “Yup. He fell.”

Jeremy grinned widely, kneeling next to Ryan and pulling off the mask completely, planting a warm kiss to Ryan’s pouting lips before leaning back again, “See, now this is a perfect height for me.”

Ryan sat up, rubbing his back lightly, “Glad I could accommodate. Just wish it didn’t have to be a painful accommodation.”

Jeremy pecked him on the cheek, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home. How does that sound?”

“Awful,” Geoff cut in, “It sounds awful and you shouldn’t do it. At all. Ever.”

As usual, they ignored Geoff’s protests.

“Sounds wonderful,” Ryan hummed, taking both his boyfriends’ hands that they offered to help him to his feet, “Speaking of home, haven’t heard any sirens in a bit. We clear?”

“Looks like it,” Jack confirmed, Ray agreeing after a quick scan of the area around him with his scope, “Scanner says they’ve called off the search.”

“Shall we, then?” Ryan offered his arms to Jeremy and Gavin, both happily looping their arms with his, leaning into him as they headed back to Ryan’s car.

“Yeah, let’s head home, Spidey.”

Alright, he could do without the Spiderman jokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! After a bit of a lull, here's the next kiss, which I actually had a bit of trouble thinking of a good idea. In the end, I just decided on going with good ol' nerd Ryan. Hopefully, I can get the next part out a bit quicker.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who kudosed and commented!


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